Passion
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: After avoiding it for years, Jane finally tackles playing the piano as she does everything in her adult life. Along the way to recovering her playing skills, she has a little self discovery.
1. Chapter 1

**I decided to jump on the bandwagon and write something about Jane and pianos.**

**Characters aren't mine. They belong to Tess Gerritsen, Janet Tamaro, Turner Broadcasting, Warner Brothers, and other assorted important people. I gain nothing from writing these stories but the fun of doing it. Please don't sue me.**

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" Angela finished the dishes in her daughter's kitchen as she watched the younger Rizzoli stand in the center of the living room, clearly lost in thought. "I haven't seen you this distracted since they changed the flavored coffee in the café from French vanilla to hazel nut."

"Okay, first of all," Jane finally stopped looking around her apartment to send a glare to her mother, "that hazel nut stuff is _nasty_. I can't believe anyone would drink that crap. Second of all, I'm thinking about rearranging my apartment. Third of all," she pointed at her mother, her free hand on her hip, "stop mocking me about my coffee. I can't help it if I can appreciate a good roast. It means I can tell when something is cheap and easy."

"Like a bad hooker," Angela rolled her eyes. "We've already talked about this." Drying her hands on the dishtowel, she looked around the small apartment. "Did you have a new set up in mind?"

"No. Yes. No." The lanky brunette winced. "Maybe."

The elder woman chuckled. "I think you've been spending too much time with Maura."

Jane narrowed her eyes. "Funny. I'm not the one that's going around talking about panda poop tea."

"You could at least try it!" Angela gave a huff, tossed the towel onto the counter, and walked over to stand next to her daughter. "What's wrong with how you have it set up right now?"

"I never could figure out what to do with that spot where the piano was." Jane pointed to a spot against the wall where her makeshift desk resided. "I thought I'd turn into work space, but it just isn't working for me. I just use the desk to pile my junk mail on. I think it's starting to be more of a fire hazard than a desk at this point."

Angela drifted over to the desk and poked around at the large pile of unopened envelopes. "I see what you mean. What about a couple of potted plants? I always thought this place could use a little life."

"Are you calling me a zombie?" Jane crossed her arms, daring her mother to give her a comeback.

Angela rolled her eyes. "When was the last time you spent seven straight days in your apartment? Jo spends more time with me than she does here, and the last time you did laundry was at Maura's. All I'm saying is that _something_ living in here all the time couldn't hurt."

Jane threw her arms up in the air. "Hey, _you're _ the one who keeps dognapping Jo."

"Only because she'd be alone all the time if I didn't! No grandpup of mine is going to live alone. Just look at her!" Angela squatted down to pick up the little ball of fur at her feet. "Just look at that face. How could you leave her alone so much, Janie? She needs your love!"

"Oh my God, Ma, she's just a dog. You feed her. You give her water. You take her out she can do her business, and she's good. Give her a shoe to chew on, and she's in Heaven."

Angela looked down to the floor, eyes scanning until she found it. "Maura's black Jimmy Choo's? Jane, you didn't! How could you let Jo chew those up? Do you know how much those cost?"

"_I _didn't let Jo chew those up. _Maura_ gave them to Jo when she bought her new pair. She said something about them not being in season anymore, and she thought Jo would enjoy them more than she had." Jane picked up one well chewed, black patent leather high heel. Making a pained face as she looked at the shoe, she shrugged. "I don't know how she wears these things. I'd break my neck."

"I think the same thing. She must have amazing balance." Angela put Jo down and watched the little dog run to Jane, who dropped the shoe. With a happy bark, Jo picked it up and trotted to her doggie bed to settle down for a good chew session. "But Maura always looks so good. You know, I've never seen her look bad? Even when I _know_ she had someone over the night before, like when Ian…"

"I don't want to talk about Ian, Ma." Jane shook her head, crossing her arms as did so. "I don't want to _ever_ talk about Ian. He's an ass and die in Africa from some horrible third world disease for all I care."

"That's an awful thing to say!" Angela glared at her daughter. "You know how much Maura loves him. How can you say that about the love of your best friend's life?"

"Because, for someone that supposed to be her one great love, he treats her like shit." With an angry growl, Jane walked over to her desk, brushing past her mother, to start clearing it off. As she spoke, she grabbed and ripped through the junk mail, tossing it into bins for recycling or shredding as appropriate. "He swings into her life once in a blue moon, uses her to get medical supplies, uses her for _other_ things, and then leaves her, and, you know what?" She threw the last of her junk mail into a bin; it landed with a hard thunk. "If he really loved her – if he cared about her _at all_, he'd stop that crap and _be with her_. Instead, he wants to run off and go play hero somewhere that lands him on some most wanted list and makes Maura an accessory. What kind of person does that?"

She grunted, moving back into the middle of her living room. "Maura deserves better than that. She deserves someone who understands that she needs to be love, supported, protected, and _not fucking used like a high class escort just because he can_." Her frown grew deeper as she thought about. "_Ass._"

Angela's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the venom in her daughter's voice. "Tell me how you really feel."

"I told you I don't want to talk about Ian," Jane shot back, not noticing the surprise on her mother's face. "Man," she gave a little stomp of her foot, "what am I going to do with that space?"

"You could always buy another piano," Angela offered with a shrug.

"No." The reply was quick, but it left no doubt Jane had no intention of continuing that line of talk.

"Okay," Angela said with a slight nod of her head. "How about one of those in-house waterfalls? They're supposed to be really relaxing."

Jane's head turned quickly to look at the older woman. "What?"

"A waterfall. You know, for the sound it makes, and it could maybe double as way to keep Jo's water fresh when you weren't at home because I'm sure she doesn't like stale…"

"No, not that." Jane made a vague swiping away motion with her hand. "Did you just say okay? You mean you're really not going to give me grief about not playing the piano anymore after spending _years_ making me lean and play and then guilting me into taking the piano with me when I moved out? Really?" She held one hand up, palm up, in a gesture meant to say 'what the heck'.

Glancing to the young woman's upturned hand, Angela replied quietly, "There are some things I don't like to talk about, either, Jane." She gave a very heavy sigh. "I don't know for certain, but I can guess why you don't play anymore. _That _is one of those things _I _don't like to talk about." Turning to the door and picking up her purse, Angela's face kept it's grave expression. "Let me know when you figure out what to do with that space, and I'll help you move stuff around." Stunned her mother's response, Jane simply nodded in the affirmative. As Angela walked to the door to leave, she stopped and turned to face her daughter again. "I miss it. You were always better than you thought you were." With that parting thought, the older Rizzoli left the apartment, quietly closing the door behind her.

* * *

Slowly sitting down on the sofa, Jane stared down at her hands, flipping them over to look at the scars that adorned them. She stretched and flexed her fingers, opening and closing her palms as she thought about what had just happened in her home.

Thinking on it, she realized it had been nearly five years since she last touched a piano to do anything more than dust it or move it. When Hoyt's apprentice had come into her apartment and trashed the musical instrument, she had considered it a small act of Providence. It meant the piano would be sitting in her home mocking her. She hated having it there to remind her of yet another thing she couldn't do, or, rather, do right. At least, she couldn't do it right anymore.

There were a lot of things Jane could do that she would never admit to most of the time. Despite the teasing and hard times she gave to Maura about it, Jane was also experience in ballet. She knew it was a difficult sport. Thinking about it even now made her feet hurt. Her mother's demands that she participate in ballet until she was twelve made her resent the activity. It was girlie, and she wasn't. It was refined and elegant, and she always felt she was anything but. In short, ballet made her feel awkward, and she hated it, which is why she always told people it wasn't a real sport. But she knew better. It was just something she said to irritate Maura.

Playing the piano was something else she'd never been great at. She was never a prodigy. Playing didn't come easily to her. She had to practice twice as long as some of the other students her instructor taught just to be as proficient as they were. Despite her long, slender fingers, her coordination was very bad, and she had a difficult time keeping tempo. Her instructor had once told her that he felt seasick listening to her play. "You speed up. You slow down. You speed up. You slow down. Stop playing before I have to take some Dramamine," he'd once said and then sent her back one with a metronome.

In fact, her instructor never missed a chance to remind her faults. "You're so technical," he once told her when she had finally mastered the understanding of keeping a solid tempo. "You're playing has no emotion. Where is your soul? You need to play with passion. Where is your passion?"

She rolled her eyes at the memory. Her passion had been on the baseball diamond where she was the star pitcher. Looking back on it, she realized that her instructor had insinuated she might soulless, which made her suddenly angry. She had a soul, it just wasn't in it for Schumann.

Standing, the detective paced in front of her desk.

She had passion. She was passionate about a lot of things. She was passionate about her family, her sports teams, her job, her Maura.

At the thought, she abruptly stopped pacing. Her Maura? She shook her head. No, her _best friend_ Maura.

Rolling her eyes, she glared at her desk. Her instructor sucked. He called her names, made her feel like crap, and told her she had no passion. _Screw him_. She _had_ passion, and she could play the piano with best of them. Forget him and his insults. She was going to relearn what she'd lost, and she was going to show them all.

Jane Rizzoli was a passionate, soulful person, damn it.

Nodding to herself, she walked over to her laptop, flipped it open, and started searching for someone she thought she would never want to see again.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jane Rizzoli?" A very short, petite Asian man with greying hair, a small bald spot at his crown, and a slight Chinese accent looked up at the detective with an expression somewhere between curious and confused. "You are her, yes?"

Careful to keep her blazer from shifting too much to reveal her badge or gun, Jane shifted under his too familiar gaze. "Yeah, Dr. Chang, it's me. Listen, I was wondering if you have a few minutes to talk?" She reached up to run a hand across the back of her neck. It had taken only a few minutes to find his name and his studio's address. It had taken her three days to work up the nerve to go see him. As she stood in front of his desk during her Wednesday lunch hour, she couldn't help but wonder what had been going through her mind to even _think _ about attempting this craziness.

"You so big! When did you get so tall?" He motioned for her to sit in the guest chair. "Last time I saw you, you were my height!" He smiled at her fondly. "Do you have a little one you me to teach?"

"What? No!" She held both hands up, indicating she wanted him to stop. "No, no children. I don't have any kids."

"Oh, that's a shame," he said with obvious sincerity. "So, why are you here?"

Taking in a deep breath to steady her nerves, she replied with all the courage she could muster without wincing. "I want to learn to play the piano."

Confused, he scrunched his face up. "What you mean? You already _know_ how to play. I taught you myself!" His frown deepened. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No," she steadied herself, trying to keep from snapping at the older man. "No, this isn't a joke. Look, Dr. Chang, a lot has happened in my life, and I haven't played in a long time. I had some… things happen that kept me from playing, and I need to relearn. I know I wasn't very good when I was younger, but…"

"You were great!" His voice rose a notch. "Most dedicated player I had. Not a natural talent but good." Contemplating his last words, he added. "Needed to play with more soul, more heart, though."

"Oooookay," the detective took a moment to process that thought, shrugged, and tried again. "So, anyway, I want to relearn, but I'm not sure I can actually _play_. I was wondering if you'd work with me?"

"Why don't you think you can play? You missing a finger or something?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

Sighing, she held her hands up so he could see her scars and then flipped them around to show the sister scars on the other side. "I had an incident with a couple of scalpels and a serial killer."

His eyes widened. "That was you?"

"How many Jane Rizzolis are there in Boston?" She snorted. "That was me. So, are you willing to help me or what?"

He seemed to think about it for a moment. Instead of giving her an answer, he asked her, "Why do you want to play now?"

In her mind, her answer was, _'Because I want to play for Maura.'_ Ignoring her internal voice, she answered, "Because Ma misses it."

Dr. Chang frowned. "That's the _only_ reason?"

Sensing he might not agree based on what she just gave him, she sighed and answered in a deflated tone. "Because I have someone I want to play for. No, it's not Ma, but can you just be good with that?"

He pursed his lips as he walked around his desk and squatted beside Jane. Reaching out, he took one of her hands in his own and gently moved her fingers about, pulling them as wide as they could before Jane gave a grunt of pain. "You will have to do stretches." He nodded down to the hand his own. "Tendons are tight."

"Yeah, I know. They're always like that." She sighed. "So is that a yes?"

"Sunday mornings, 7:00 AM sharp. You late," he said as he stood up to return to his desk, "no more lessons."

"I can't make that guarantee, Dr. Chang. I'm a homicide detective. If I have to be at a crime scene because I'm on call that weekend, I have to be there." She folded her arms in defiance. "I won't sacrifice my job for this. What I do is too important." She shook her head. "It's not just _what_ I do. It's _who_ I am. If you can't be okay with that, I'll go elsewhere."

Despite the glare on his face, his mood seemed to be one of approval. "When you're on call, no lesson that week. You can come practice here," he cocked his head in thought, "at least four times a week for _one hour_. Yes?"

Jane nodded, standing up as she did so and not caring that her badge flashed as she straightened her jacket. "Yeah. Sunday?"

He nodded. "Don't be late."


	3. Chapter 3

"Jane, where do you go on Sunday mornings?" Maura sat down next to Jane, placing the popcorn bowl on her coffee table.

"Crazy," came the guarded and somewhat sarcastic answer as Jane reached for handful of popcorn and tried to keep her eyes on the screen.

"I don't think I deserved that. I'm just asking a question. You've been going somewhere every Sunday you weren't on call for almost six months now." She frowned in thought. "You never tell any of us where you're going, you're gone for a little of an hour, and then you come back. It's unlike you, but you seem to not want to talk about it, so I valued your right to your privacy."

Jane gave her friend a side glance. "So why are you asking me now?"

"I'm curious." Maura shrugged. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, of course, but, as your best friend, I just want you to know you can share anything with me."

"I'm filtering until you learn to stop talking to Ma about things," Jane shot back, though there was humor laced in her words.

"I've stopped, and you know it." Maura missed the humor, and her response was full of hurt and remorse. "I thought we'd worked through this."

"What? No, we have! Maura, don't be mad. I was just cracking a joke. Hey," turning to the pouting doctor, she reached on to place a reassuring hand on a petite shoulder. "You know I trust you, right? I trust you more than anyone I know."

Swallowing down the lump of emotion in her throat, Maura blinked a few times as she took in Jane's serious expression and the meaning of her words. "Even Barry or Vince?"

"Yeah," Jane nodded, "Even Frost or Korsak or Frankie or Ma. You're at the top of my list, okay?"

Stunned, the honey brunette chewed at her bottom lip, unsure of what to say. Finally, she nodded. "You're at the top of mine as well."

"Okay then," Jane turned back around to the tv but draped her arm across the smaller woman's shoulder, which gave unspoken permission for the doctor to snuggle in next to her, which she quickly did. "What the hell are we watching anyway?"

"Sabrina staring Audrey Hepburn." Maura grinned, "I get my chick flick. You got a guy movie last week."

"Rocky's a classic! How can you _not_ appreciate it? It's even got a great love story." Clearing her voice, Jane did her best Stalone. "Yo, Adriane!"

Chuckling, they settled down to watch the rest of the movie.


	4. Chapter 4

"You speed up. You slow down. You speed up…"

"I slow down. Yeah, yeah, we've done this routine before. If I keep it up you'll get seasick. You want me to stop playing, take a metronome, and go practice more." Grunting in frustration, Jane started to make a grab for her sheet music but was stopped by Dr. Chang's hand on her own.

"Why you so distracted?" He looked down at her, his eyes face full of question. "You're normally so focused. Today, you focus and slow down, then you leave the room," he pointed to his head, "and you speed up. Where you go?" He shook his head. "You can't play if you're not here. You have to leave work," he pointed toward the street, "outside."

"No, it's not work." She groaned. When had her piano instructor become her makeshift therapist? "I upset Maura last night, and I keep thinking about it. I hate it when I accidentally hurt her feelings."

"Then don't!" He gave her a look as if to say that was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Yeah, because I accidentally on purpose hurt her feelings, so I can _so_ easily _not_ do it next time. Right. Yeah. Got it. _Thank you_, Dr. Chang for clearing that up for me." She rolled her eyes but stopped trying to pick up her sheet music.

"You make things so _complicated_." He rolled his eyes. "Always too hard on some things and not on others." He pointed at her. "Priorities are all wrong. All wrong!" He pointed at the keys on the upright piano in his studio. "You need to learn to play without watching her fingers move. Like typing. No hunt and peck." He glared at her. "Always think too much." Sighing, he seemed to consider his tactics. "Play something memorized, and tell me why you hurt your friend's feelings."

Jane's eyes widened. "At the same time!"

"Yes. At same time. Now go!" He sat down in the chair beside her bench, crossed his eyes, and waited. "Well?"

"Okay, this is going to be disastrous," she mumbled as she got into proper playing position and began the basic melody to 'O, Holy Night'. As she spoke, her fingers walked up and down the keys, missing notes. She would flinch, but Dr. Chang's face said he expected to play on. "Well, I hurt her feelings because I won't tell her where I'm going on Sunday mornings, and she felt like I wasn't telling her because I didn't trust her." A massively wrong chord rang out. She grunted, repositioned, and kept playing. "But that's not it. I do trust. I really do." A wrong note. "It's just that I don't want to tell anyone where I'm going or what I'm doing until I don't screw up so much with it." Another couple of wrong notes.

"So you don't trust your friend." It was a statement from her instructor, not a question.

"That's not what I said!" Another massively wrong chord. "I trust Maura. I trust Maura more than I've ever trust anyone in my life. Hell, I'd trust her with my life." Another wrong chord followed but a few under the breath curses.

"With your life?" He eyebrows rose in appreciation. "High praise."

"She deserves it." Jane began to play the piece again. "Maura's smart, intelligent, funny, and quirky. She's loving, caring, and loyal. She's so loyal, and giving! Did I tell you that she's letting my mother live in her guest house while the divorce is going on?" Jane turned her head to look at Dr. Chang. "Can you believe that? You remember my mother. I just… honestly, I don't know what I would do without Maura. She's involved in practically every aspect of my life, Ma adores her, and my brothers like her. I think Tommy likes her a little too much." Another massively wrong chord and another curse from the detective. "But Maura would never do anything with Tommy. She told me that, and believe her. Actually, what she told me was that she liked Tommy but she loved me. I believe that, too. Maura, she's just one of the good ones, you know? I know I can trust her. There aren't a lot of people in my life that I can trust like I can her. I'm actually really sorry I said what I did to her last night. I was just yanking her chain. I sometimes forget how literal she can be, especially when she's tired."

"You should play like that _all the time_." Dr. Chang stood and held his hand up to indicate that Jane should stop playing. "Much better. Fewer mistakes. See? It's better when you don't think so much."

"I… wait, what? Are you kidding me? Did you hear all the wrong chords I hit?" Jane was clearly baffled.

"Not at the end. Here," he handed her an SD card. "You go home. Listen to today's lesson. Try to practice to sound like you did today." Flipping his hand over to look at his watch, he grimaced. "Go. I'm going to be late for church!"

* * *

Jane sat alone in her apartment and listened to the recording of her last session. It was Thursday, and she had been putting it off all week. Each time she'd gone to the studio to practice, she'd avoided her instructor so she wouldn't have to make up an excuse for why she hadn't listened to it yet.

She really didn't know why. She was chalking it up to a combination of personal laziness and the fact that she had been working on a case. However, Sunday was fast approaching, and she knew he'd ask her about it, so she finally muster up enough 'want to' to listen.

As the session played, she held her breath, amazed that the sounds coming from recording were sounds she had produced. He was right, when she wasn't thinking about it, she played really well. She corrected herself as her comment about Tommy made her hit a wrong chord. When she played while talking about _Maura_, she played really well.

"Well crap," she muttered to herself. "I don't think I like where this is going." Her mind mulled over the comments about passion and music that Dr. Chang so often talked about. "Not sure I can keep it from going there, though." With a resigned sigh, she turned her computer off and headed for bed.


	5. Chapter 5

"Is it a boy?" Angela sat a plate of pancakes in front her daughter and an omelet in front of Maura.

"No, Ma." Without so much as looking up at the older woman, Jane began to cut into her pancakes. "It's just a thing I've been doing, okay? Can't we all just leave it at that?"

"It's been eight months, Jane," Maura said with a little sigh. "Surely you can understand why we're all curious?"

"Yeah, I can, but too bad." The detective glanced around the café to make sure no one was listening. "You two ever heard the saying, 'Curiosity killed the cat'?"

"I've resigned myself to accepting that you'll tell me once you're ready for me to know," Maura said before taking a sip of water.

Angela scoffed. "You can't even tell your own mother?"

"I can, but I'm not going to." Shrugging off the oncoming guilt trip, Jane turned to the woman across the table from her. "Maura, are we still on for tonight? I really want to take you out."

"Take her out?" The older Rizzoli quickly looked from one woman to the other. "Take her out _how_? Take _you_ out how?"

"Oh, Jane didn't tell you? She asked me to accompany her to a piano recital tonight. Dr. Yong Yee Chang is playing, and she has tickets. I've very excited!" The doctor bounced a bit in her seat.

"Dr. Chang? _The _Dr. Chang? Jane, the Dr. Chang that taught you to play piano?" Angela leveled a look at her daughter.

"Yup," Jane blushed. "I saw he was playing and thought I'd go see him. What? Don't look at me like that. I read the Metro section of the paper!" She rolled her eyes at her mother.

"Jane, you never told me Dr. Chang taught you. You know, he graduated from Julliard? He's played for royalty and high ranking politicians? He's remarkably talented. You were very lucky to study under him." It was clear Maura was impressed.

"Yeah, lucky is one word for it." Standing, Jane shrugged. "Pick you up at six? I made reservations at a restaurant nearby."

Maura nodded. "Of course, where, exactly are we eating?"

"Nope, not telling you. This is _my _treat. I asked you to come with me." Leaning over, Jane kissed Angela on the cheek. "Bye Ma, thanks for breakfast. I'll see you both later." With a final look to Maura, Jane strode out of the café and to the stairs.

Angela stood, staring at her daughter's retreating form before swinging her gaze back to the woman still seated at the table. "Maura, would you tell me if there was something going on between you and Jane?"

"Not unless Jane allowed me to, but, Angela, you know there's not." Shaking her head at the absurdity of the question, Maura took another bite of her food.

"But you can't lie, so, if I asked you, you'd have to tell me the truth," the older woman said, more to herself than the doctor. "So, Maura, are you and Jane involved in something more than just a best friend friendship?"

Rolling her eyes, the doctor took time to chew and swallow before answering. "No, Angela. Jane and I are just friends."

Narrowing her eyes, the Rizzoli matriarch asked quietly, "Would you _want_ to be more than that?"

"Yes." The answer was out before Maura could stop it. Panicked and unable to think of what to do next, she bolted for the stairs, leaving Angela behind to catch up with what had just happened.

Shaking her head and clearing the table, Angela muttered to herself, "I think she does, too."

* * *

"I can't believe you studied with him." Maura practically glided from the car to her front door. "Jane, he's amazing. Do you think, one day, you might introduce me to him?"

Jane shrugged and held the front door open. "Maybe."

"I would love that." With a practice ease, Maura took their coats while Jane grabbed a couple of glasses for water. "Are you going home tonight?" Maura accepted the water with a gentle smile.

"Do you want me to?" The question was quiet, but the undertone of the question was new.

The evening had gone well. Jane had been prompt picking Maura up, and she had managed to surprise the normally composed doctor by showing up in a stunning red gown with matching purse and heels. The dinner was been lovely. They had gone to a quiet, small French bistro, and Jane had arranged to eat at the chef's table. Maura had been delighted, and they'd had a wonderful time interacting with the chef and his staff. The performance had been lovely, and, throughout the evening, Jane had been incredibly attentive to Maura's needs.

If the doctor didn't know any better, she would have called this outing with best friend a date. It had certainly felt that way, and Jane had treated her as many of Maura's previous dates had. The over attentiveness normally bothered her, but, when it was Jane, she simply accepted it with a blush and an honest smile of thanks.

Something had shifted in the air. Maura could feel it, and she realized her next words would determine a course she didn't even know was a real option.

Swallowing a few sips of water, she looked at the lanky woman waiting for response. Finally, she set the glass down and slowly shook her head. "No, I don't."

"Then I'll stay." Jane stepped forward to close the distance between them. Her voice low and gravely, she asked quietly, "Where am I sleeping tonight?"

"Where do you want to sleep?" Maura tilted her head up to meet the dark brown eyes gazing down at her.

Jane smirked. "Wherever you are."

"Jane, what do you…"

Maura never finished the sentence. Jane's lips on hers paused any further conversation, and sent them spiraling in a new and wholly unpredictable director.


	6. Chapter 6

"You found it!" Dr. Chang crossed his arms and smiled brightly at his student.

Jane blinked at him. "Found what?" She scowled. "I didn't lose my sheet music, if that's what you mean."

"No, not that," he batted at her. "You found your passion. Good! Took you long enough." He nodded his approval. "How long you date?"

"Date what?" The detective shook her head. "Dr. Chang, we've talked about this. You have to make sense if you want me to answer your questions."

He smirked at her. "How long you date Maura?"

"How did you know that?" Jane shot up from the piano bench, turning completely around to look down at the small man. "How could you _possibly_ know that?"

He chuckled. "I say, 'Play and tell me why you make your friend mad.' You play and, when you talk about her, you play with passion. Now, you play with passion when you _not_ talk about her, which means you carry her with you here." He pointed to her chest. "You play from heart. You think about her, yes?"

"What are you? Some kind of mind reader or something? I mean, really?" She sat back down on the bench, facing away from the piano. "Three months."

Dr. Chang's smirk grew into a smile. "Angela know?"

"Not officially, but I'm pretty sure she knows. We just haven't talked about it." Jane ran a hand through her hair, flipping the part to the other side. "Yes, I was thinking about Maura while I was playing, but that's all you're getting."

"I'm not some kind of perv!" He winked. "Glad you found it and her. Now, when you play for her?"

"I've been thinking about that." Jane flexed her hands. "Would you mind if I brought her here next Saturday? If you don't have any lessons that night, would that be okay?"

"Yes, that fine, but no sex in the studio." Dr. Chang laughed at Jane's horrified reaction as he pointed to a corner of the room. "Cameras."

"Oh my God," she shook her head, "I can't even…"

* * *

"When am I allowed to remove the blindfold?" Maura allowed Jane to hold her hand and led her, trusting Jane completely.

"When I say you can. Now, don't move. I have to unlock a door." Jane dropped Maura's hand to open the studio door. Taking the smaller hands back in her own, she pulled Maura inside, closed and locked the door behind them, and then pulled the blindfold off. "We're here."

Maura blinked. "Where is here?" She glanced around the darkened room.

"Dr. Chang's studio." With a grin on her face, Jane flipped the lights on, revealing the small studio with its piano against one wall. Next to the piano was a single chair and sheet music sat, waiting, on the music stand. "You keep asking me where I go every Sunday morning. Well, this is it."

"You've been coming here? To see Dr. Chang?" Maura's face flickered from intrigued to confused. "Why?"

"To learn to play again. Come on," wrapping an arm around Maura's waist, Jane led them to the piano. She allowed the small woman to sit before taking her own seat at the piano bench. "Dr. Chang told me when I was a kid that I was too technical. He said I didn't play with soul, with passion. I started thinking about it about a year ago, and it ticked me off. So I decided to come back here and show him I _could_ play with passion. Come to find out, I had to find my passion before I could play like I had it."

"You job?" Maura asked, remembering the passion behind anything Jane said when she spoke about being a detective.

"At one time, sure," Jane said as she turned to the piano. "Not so much now, though," she said before placing her hands and playing.

* * *

The music was soft and flowing. The familiar tune of Bach's Air in D Major floated through the air.

Jane played effortlessly, her face calm and her fingers confident. As the notes tinkled and echoed through the room in light waves of lovely sound, Jane closed her eyes and played on while Maura watched. When the song was over and the last note had stopped, the detective took in a deep breath, opened her eyes, and turned to the other woman. "Now," she whispered, "my passion is with you."

"Jane," Maura whispered, "Am I the first?"

"Besides Dr. Chang and since," Jane glanced down at her hands, not finishing the thought. "Yes, but, it's like I told you once before, I trust you Maura."

"I… I…" the honey brunette shook her head, holding in her emotions to try to find the right words to show how much she appreciated the gift Jane had just given her. When she opened her mouth to say thank you, the words that tumbled out were much greater than she expected, "I love you, too."

Jane's smile beamed. "Let me take you home?"

"Okay," Maura nodded, her voice hoarse with surprise at her own words. "What then?"

"Then?" Jane shook her head as she glanced toward the camera in the room and winked before opening the door for Maura to step out. "Then I show you how much passion you make me feel on a daily basis."

* * *

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